


Tumblr Trailmix

by Project0506



Series: Soft Wars [144]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 4,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29586399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506
Summary: All the little pieces on Tumblr for challenges etc that are too teeny to be their own thing.  Mostly G, rated for the occasions Fox's potty mouth makes an appearance(Some of them are even actually 6 sentences long!)
Series: Soft Wars [144]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683775
Comments: 128
Kudos: 247





	1. 17, Spar, 16, Jangotat, Feral Rex'ika, Opportunistic Wolffe

17 raised … let’s not be shy here, he raised a quartet of _hooligans_ and by some weird twist of fate managed not to murder any of them. Why, _why_ he should be run _ragged_ by this new little pest is completely beyond him.

“Am I just too old for this now?” he laments.

“Are you looking for a smack, vod’ika?” 6 asks pleasantly. Spar grins ominous agreement.

17 ignores them. This is _his_ room after all. If they didn’t want to be reminded of their impending senescence they should have invaded somewhere else. “Or is he actually _worse_?”

“You’re imagining it,” Jangotat muses. He’s busy unaurebeshizing every single one of 17′s ‘pads. When was the last time 17 dunked him off the docks? “Remember your oldest call themselves ‘The Shebse’. In comparison, Rex is delightful.”

17 hisses as if to ward off bad luck. “Do _not_ name him! I’m going to put him back as soon as Cody’s distracted.”

All three other Alphas share looks of pity that grate. 17 glares at them over his frantic scouring of old workfiles for age-appropriate lessons.

“17!” Someone (not ‘someone’. That’s definitely Wolffe. No one else can do that smug tattley voice like Wolffe can.) calls. “If anyone asks, Rex has been here the whole time.”

“Prime’s hairy left-” 17 starts and cuts himself off before Jangotat can simper ‘language’ at him. “Why the kark-”

Wolffe breezes in and dumps a thrashing, hissing, blanket-swaddled bundle right on 17′s lap. “And since he’s been here the whole time, he clearly couldn’t have bitten anyone. Glad we had this talk.”

The depths of the blanket snarls something that is nothing like either Mando’a or Galactic Standard. If 17 had to give the language a name, he’d call it Death. A fuzzy gold head pops out one end and grits clench-toothed murder. “17 I’m gonna need you to lemme go,” the tiny cadet squeaks, “I need to rip off some faces with my _teeth_.”

“Delightful,” 6 whispers with a smile that says ‘may you get everything you deserve’. One day 17 is going beat the actual osik out of him.

“ _With my kriffin teeth 17_.”

17 sighs. He wonders where he can find a kiddie leash this late. And a spritzer bottle. And _liquor_.


	2. Rex, Jesse, Ahsoka, R2-D2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For an ask on where R2 is

“Lieutenant,” the Captain starts. Stops. Sighs. Removes his helmet to pinch his nose. “What are you doing.”

See the problem with framing questions as statements, layered wonderfully as it were with levels of levels of tired resignation, is that statements don’t technically require an answer. Jesse clicks his teeth idly. “Dunno what you could be meaning sir.” 

The Captain’s eyes tighten. Humor, yes, but it’s fighting for air time with the sheer exhaustion that’s been a constant companion of theirs over the past few tendays. Well. More ‘of his’ than ‘of theirs’, really. _Some_ of them are maybe dating a medic, and maybe have taken said medic’s ideas on the value of sleep to heart. _Others_ of them are much too obstinate.

“Don’t you?” the Captain drawls, dry enough that they should have one of the shinies trotting after him with an extinguisher, lest he start a bushfire. Whatever he’d come striding over to Jesse’s little humble corner for, whatever was on the holopad he was brandishing like a club, is temporarily forgotten. The grass rustles.

“Not at all,” Jesse hums. 

“I see.”

The yellow-green fields judder with the passing breeze sweeping down the prairie. The pair of blue-striped points sway ever so slightly with the motion. The Captain stares at them. Jesse stares at his report. 

(It looks pristine. It looks _pristine_. What is Dogma planning? Jesse’s read this boring blob of banthashit so many times his eyes are burning nearly as much as the Captain’s must be. It looks like a normal report. _What is Dogma planning_???)

“Lieutenant,” the Captain tries again. Turns to Jesse and only makes it partway through said turn before a pair of blue-striped points inch silently closer. The Captain whips his head to stare at them. They freeze. “Really?” he groans.

Jesse radiates tubie innocence. “Really what sir?” 

The Captain waves a gesture to his right. The blue-striped points duck about a millimeter. “Is this how you’re teaching her?”

“Don’t see any ‘her’s around here sir.”

“ _Really_.” Funny how Captain Rex can roll an insult to ones eyesight and imprecations against one’s mental acuity all together in a single word. It’s dammed impressive is what it is.

Ah, ah here’s something. Jesse changes an ‘exemplary’ to a ‘satisfactory’. It’s no big thing though, he’s still missing whatever the grand plan is.

“Y’know old timey spacers have old tales about seeing ladies out the portholes while in deep space. Science generally believes they were either very drunk or _incredibly_ overworked and likely _extremely overdue_ for some shut-eye. So if you’re seeing ‘her’s in the grass, well…”

The Look is even more eloquent than the ‘Really’. It’s all filled with ‘you aren’t subtle’ and glossed over with ‘I’m a stubborn idiot who won’t learn’ like a newly-buffed durasteel floor. They must teach that in the CC dorms.

“Noted,” the Captain drawls and very pointedly doesn’t promise to do anything to change things. Well then. Jesse tried. The Captain deserves whatever he gets. 

Captain Rex smile glares at Jesse. He turns to the pair of blue-striped points poking up among the grain stalks. They freeze, partway through again inching forward. There’s a staredown, eye to blue-striped points. “Commander,” Captain Rex starts.

The Commander lets out a bone-chilling hunting howl and pounces.

On the Captain’s back.

“ _Naptime_!” She slams him belly-first into the ground. “Perfect Artooey!”

R-2 whistles in droidy victory, and waves his blue-striped-sock-covered sticks like a conquering banner. He trundles up and around in circles of glee. Ahsoka slaps him a high five, ignores Rex’s insincere threats and makes herself utterly immovable stretched out along his back.

Jesse snaps a holo. He wonders who’ll pay the most for this one.


	3. Rex, Wolffe, Bly (and technically Ponds and Hardcase)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

“He’s very loyal and sweet, but also very dumb,” Rex says, very sweet, ever loyal, with the dumbest serious look on his face. “Maybe one of my more questionable decisions,” he allows-

“I didn’t raise you like this,” Wolffe laments into his liquor.

“-but I generally think his usefulness outweighs his idiocy.”

“There there,” Bly soothes and refills Wolffe’s cup while Ponds pats his arm, both entirely unsympathetic. “You deserve this. Hey Hardcase, as a welcome to the family I should tell you about that time Wolffe dropped Rex.”


	4. Boba, Caleb, Stance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme

“You consider me...a vod?”

“Oh would you look at the time,” the galaxy’s _most cowardly Jedi_ yelps at his bare wrist. “The fresher should be done defragging.”

“That doesn’t make _any sense_ ,” Stance yells but it’s useless: Caleb bounds away like every tuk’ata in each of the Sith hells is nipping at his tooka slippers.

Boba watches the byplay like he always does: a little apart, a little unsure. Stance sighs, and slings an arm around a tense shoulder for the kind of conversation he’s pretty sure is gonna need a hug.


	5. Daan, Kix, Bacara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

“I haven’t ruled out stunning your stupid shebs yet." Daan sputters and swings wide, disbelieving eyes their way. “Though if your combat medic can’t figure out which direction the enemy is, you might be bumped down to second.” 

Daan snaps his eyes and blaster back up to maintain cover. That leaves Bacara the only target this impertinent infantry medic’s wrath. His glares are pointed and his words are sharp, but the hands that treat Bacara’s knee are so very careful. “You _will_ seek treatment for this the moment we break clear,” the medic continues, “or I _will_ hunt you down and stunning will suddenly be a good deal more than an ‘option’.”

Bacara makes himself a mental note: this one, this tetchy careful one, has the makings of a Marine.


	6. Echo, Sabe, Fives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

“So my foots totally stuck in there, right, I’m freaking out, the akk’s having a seizure and I still got half a pie left…" 

Sabe shoots a sandpaper-on-Jakku-dry droll look over her shoulder; Fives smiles his sunniest smile back. There is no one in the galaxy who would bother asking _Fives_ if any story Echo told is 87% banthashit by volume, at least no one who would try it twice.

Sabe rolls her eyes so hard it looks painful. Echo’s story grows to include six ice dancers and a Benathy.

Fittingly, that’s about when the floor falls out.


	7. Obi-Wan, Bore, Spite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"Huh, that didn't hurt that much before...."

Bore gargles something threatening, gestures something more threatening, and storms his way out of the med room. A door slams. Impressive, Obi-Wan thinks, considering every door on this Venator is compressed-air-sliding.

One down, one to go. 

Spite glares. His fingers twitch for the anesthesia they both know he wouldn’t waste for what amounts to a sliver caught in Obi-Wan’s arm. One, Obi-Wan would like to point out, he could have dealt with _himself_ thank you very much, instead of wasting valuable resources.

Obi-Wan serenes his best Masterly face at the darkening glower. Standoff round two begins.


	8. Fox, Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

“I’m sure this is just an unfortunate misunderstanding.”

Fox says nothing. He sips his four shot honey oatmilk vanilla drizzle no whip monstrosity (which is still _not_ caff, black). The lumbar-support, heated desk chair burbs something electric and smokey.

Stone sighs. “Mousedroid or traffic?” he asks, defeated.

Fox smiles. Stone twitches like he thinks he can make it to the window. Fox’s smile widens. “Neither,” he croons. “No I have bigger plans for you.”


	9. Neyo, Jet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"He doesn't know when they became, well, not friends, not really acquaintances either, he doesn't know what to even call what they are"

“It’s ‘friends’,” Jet disagrees, promptly and on cue. He doesn’t even look up from their vicious game of Go Hunt. “Compatriots, confidants even.”

“Confidants imply confiding,” Neyo points out. Jet spares him a second of a smile.

“We’re working up to that,” he claims. “I stock pudding for you, so there’s been progress.”

If he insists. It’s baonut flavored though. Ugh. Vom. The things Neyo puts up with.

Lickit uses the moment to try to steal a bantha from Blackout’s pile. The game transitions to the typical Winder-Valor Fisticuff Interlude.


	10. Coric, Stitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"Holos or it didn't happen!"

Coric glares at the drawn curtain and the soon-to-be-murdered vode drunkenly giggling behind it. He glares again at his cup only half full. There is not enough caff _in the galaxy_ for this crap. “Stitches-”

“On break,” Stitches sings.

“The GAR doesn’t authorize breaks.”

“And I’ll be very repentant once that reprimand comes.”

Coric can’t even demote the karking pest; he’s already as low as it gets and it’s just made him more uppity.

“I’ll trade you choco-covered caff beans,” he offers instead because when you can’t threaten a vod you bribe him, and even Lt Jesse hasn’t figured out Coric’s source.

Stitches snorts and shoulders his pack. “Kark you kindly Sarge,” he sings and skips away. “They’re all covered in glitter.”


	11. Doom, Tiplee, Tiplar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"Trooper, why is half your squad hanging upside down from a tree?"

“Well sir,” the trooper starts. Doom only doesn’t pinch his nose because he’d first have to remove his helmet. “What had happened was, there were these monkeylizard things, right? Except they fart explosions-”

“We,” Tiplee groans, “will have to be _quite_ creative with the reports this time, won’t we?”

“Still not as bad as Obi-Wan,” Tiplar breezes. She’s already half-way up to join the erstwhile troopers.

Where the hell did she leave her shoes _this_ time!? Doom will have to get a droid just to keep track of them.

“ _Quite_ creative,” Tiplee grumbles. Doom sighs, agreeing.


	12. Vaughn, Bly, Aayla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"... I mean Sir, you're the one who promoted me, you should've known that would'nt end well..."

“I’d say it’s going exactly as expected,” the Commander corrects. He grins. “Except now _I’m_ not the one who has to do the paperwork. Do you-”

“Hello Vaughn.” The General leans into the holoprojector range. She drops an elbow on the Commander’s shoulder to balance. Commander Bly makes that face he does when he wants people to think he’s annoyed. “We heard you destroyed another continent.”

“An island,” Vaughn lies, and the first command to believe in him grin back at the fib. “And only a small one! And technically-”


	13. Gree, Neyo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

" If he could see his own face he'd see he's donned that disgustingly lovesick look he's constantly teasing his brothers over"

“Gorgeous,” Gree sighs. He looks seconds away from singing, or proposing or something equally liberally gooped with sap. Neyo inches away, in case it’s karking contagious. “ _Gorgeous_. I have to see her.”

“I’m officially very uncomfortable.”

Gree doesn’t bother to acknowledge that, if he hears it at all. 

Onscreen, the image of the _Gravestone_ glitters like a siren in Uncharted space and Gree is a man ensorcelled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the Gravestone was the best thing about the SWTOR Outlander expansion and no I don't take comments.


	14. Krestor, Bossi, Keller, Rothax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"I don't know whether to laugh, cry or shoot all of you with a tranq"

“Those seem like very limited options,” Krestor opines.

“Very limited,” Bossi agrees. 

Rothax, Keller has already firmly established, has forfeited any right to input for as long as he’s trundling along a crate of detcord. The medic can only hope the glare he shoots the armorer bites sharper than the chill in Concord Dawn’s midnight air.

Karking Fullfall.


	15. Lickit, Neyo, Stopit, Dangit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"Oh my god, Lickit, why are you like this?!"

“Fun, mostly,” Lickit admits, and only a little bit because Stopit will puff up like a pineshrub and go twice as purple. Dangit giggles.

“ _Don’t_ encourage him,” Stopit hisses.

Commander Neyo watches them all, like they’re some very interesting kind of bug. Lickit shoves aside all gaiety and straightens. “Sir,” he says crisply and snaps a perfect salute. 

“A wager?” the Commander prompts. He smiles like he doesn’t quite mean it. 

“I can tell you every planet you’ve stepped foot on in the past month,” he claims, brazen. “And if I win, you pick my squad for Valor.”

The Commander’s smile widens, goes something not quite normal. “Sure. You have one shot.”


	16. Neyo, Faie, Appo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

It's too easy to revert to it. Cold, cruel taunts always filling the spaces between them, convinced that kindness would hurt them more in the long run.

These days, these days there are more silences, and the words don’t come as easy. 

“Next week,” Neyo grunts and glares around at them. “Taungsday. Vaughn’s cooking. Show up.”

“I might,” Faie muses, “if I feel like it.”

Appo can’t figure out an answer, until Neyo turns that glare on him and he finds he nods. That he wants to.

These days, Appo thinks, he likes those thick awkward silences a lot better than the quick bladed words.


	17. Ponds, Mace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

" Nothing Sir!" That grin however is visciously wide, emitting unfiltered, pure glee. Won't even do him the courtesy to pretend not to be up to something.

“You could at least _try_ to lie,” Mace offers.

Ponds is entirely undaunted. “I would never,” he lies.

Mace’s schedule for this evening is a yawning void of nothingness: no meetings, no appointments, no looming deadlines. It would almost be nice, if Ponds weren’t up to something.

“Whatever Depa is paying you-” Mace tries.

Ponds feigns insult. “I cannot be _bribed_ , General,” he titters, and Mace’s trepidation only grows.


	18. Kix, Jesse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"Is it possible to get leave from leave? Is that a thing? Because I need it to be a thing."

“No,” Kix decides. He gets himself an extra-firm grip on Jesse, just in case he thinks to bolt. Kix will _not_ suffer alone.

“I love you,” Jesse says and he always says it so easily. If Kix were a blushing man… “But this is cruel.”

“This is commercialism,” Kix corrects.

“That’s what I said.”

Kix shoots for Jesse’s weak spot: “It’s for the Captain and the General.”

Jesse sighs, and stops trying to tug his arm away without untangling their fingers. Kix pats his hand. “Just one store,” he promises, “just til we find something for the General to use in meditating. And then we can spend the rest of the day together.”

Jesse stares up dubiously at the towering behemoth of multi-store capitalism. “I think,” he grouses, “that you are vastly underestimating how long this will take.”

“Just one store,” Kix promises, and tugs him into the mall.


	19. Monnk, Kit, Nahdar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

‘Sir, I’m flattered, but you are on a lot of medication right now, so I’m gonna have to ask you to lay back down.’

“Right in the snoot,” General Fisto giggles. “ _With a stick_.”

Monkk desperately struggles to maintain decorum. 

“I am trained in improvised weaponry,” he tries vainly. 

“ _Stick!”_ General Fisto grins, loopy. “A gorgeous thwapping.”

“Distraction tactic, sir.”

“You won’t win,” Commander Nahdar mutters. “You wouldn’t even if he wasn’t drugged to the vibrosensors.” He prods at readouts and gauges, flits back and forth between the General’s bed and Commander Fil’s. Monnk understands: he’s trying not to think about it either, just how close Grievous came to… Monnk swallows.

“I have to try,” he insists. “Or the General will start to think he can get away with everything.”

Commander Nahdar grants him a tight little smile, still laced with guilt but real enough. They’re getting there. “Try pinning his leggings to his tunics,” the Mon Calamari healer shares. “He’ll be too distracted trying to undue them to argue.”

Monnk thinks he might promote Commander Nahdar to new favorite Jedi.


	20. Krestor, Keller, Bacara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

“You may be attractive, but I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Yes,” Krestor argues, “but I _am_ attractive?”

The men have bets, Bacara knows. Nearly as many as they have for Bacara himself, and just as outlandish.

“You are in possession of a nauseatingly symmetrical skull,” Keller contemplates, “but now I’m not sure if it counts.”

Krestor pouts. Keller ignores. A completely conspicuous huddle of Marines whisper and debate. 

Bacara very carefully doesn’t roll his eyes. One day, the tat’kate will realize that Krestor and Keller’s staged little plays _always_ happen near convenient witnesses, and always when the betting starts to slow.

“My chest is also very symmetrical,” Krestor insists, just loudly enough to be overheard. Keller hums consideration. The Marines hastily reconvene their huddle to whisper viciously.


	21. 17, Rex, Luke, Leia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"Are we sure those are your kids Rex? Are we positive?"

“Of course,” Rex lies beatifically. “They have my nose.”

The grumpy dark one wrinkles its face. The gold giggler giggles itself into a sneezing fit. Neither one of them have a nose anykarkingthing like the menace’s.

“Where the kark did you even get-”

“Always had them 17. Can’t believe you forgot. Even after I named them after you. Here, hold Luke a moment.”

The ‘Luke’ Rex dumps in 17′s arms is as sunny as his head. “Look,” 17 murmurs to the tubby little dumpling. “You’re gonna have to work with me here alright? It’s very important that you be the biggest little shit you can.” He thinks the brat’s burble sounds like agreement


	22. Bant, Kit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"Oh, it's not any trouble at all, just a scratch; in fact, I'm 97% sure I'm not even poisoned!"

“Oh if you’re _97%_ sure, Master” Bant echoes sweetly, “I’d better schedule you for an _incredibly_ _exhaustive_ panel. Just to be safe.”

Kit manages to hold his smile by virtue of sheer long practice. “I’m sure that isn’t necessary my old Pada-”

“Nonsense _Master_ , I _insist,_ ” she giggles and pulls out something that looks far more suitable to engine maintenance than medicinal treatment. 

Maybe, Kit muses in belated epiphany, it isn’t wise to try to use Obi-Wan’s diversions against someone who grew up with him.


	23. Rex, Kix, Jesse, Anakin, Ahsoka, Dogma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"Rex would go deal with it himself, but that would mean surrendering the prime spot in the vod heap, so Anakin was on his own". 

“I need _the five Ws_ Anakin,” Dogma screeches and wields a holopad like it’s a sword. “ _All five_ Ws. _But especially ‘Why’_!”

“Should we-” Kix starts.

“No,” Jesse and Rex both insist. Ahsoka makes herself immovably heavy. Rex pats her foot: new favorite.

“Well alright then,” Kix relents. He drops his head down to that one spot in Rex’s back that sees him out like a light.


	24. Comet, Sinker, Boost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"Listen, if the CCs get to just adopt a CT, what do us CTs get to adopt?"

“Not a loth wolf!”

Comet pouts. “That’s what you said about the loth cat.”

“The point stands!”

“And the loth rabbit. And the loth fox.”

Boost wonders if it’s possible to request the Wolfpack never ever be deployed to the Lothal system again.

“It’s only a baby,” Sinker points out. Boost will wallop him for that later.

“I don’t care if it’s the Chancellor, get that out before the Commander sees it. _Now_ trooper.”

Except, they all know what he _really_ means is ‘get it out before the General sees it’. Because the General will definitely side with Comet.


	25. Faie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

Physical touch doesn't come as easy to him as it does most other vode, too used to it meaning pain was imminent.

But he knows himself, has _learned_ and maybe he’s learned more about himself than trainers intended. He knows this fear wasn’t always his to hold. He knows it was forced into his grip. He knows he’s expected to keep it.

Faie has always, just ever so hidden, been petty.

“Uppity, aren’t you,” he grins at the vod’ika. Little, so little; Faie doesn’t ever remember being that small. The vod glares back suspicion. Faie’s hand never wavers. “I’m second rank,” Faie reminds and it’s a boast. Neyo fights endlessly to hold first, but Faie’s found second holds most of the benefits and little of the risk. “And you’re what? Barely out of third cycle? I’ll be gone to war years before you could have _anything_ I want from you.”

There’s nothing of trust, in the hand the vod’ika places in Faie’s. Nothing of faith when the kid lets Faie haul him upright. It’s calculation and weight of odds and coming up positive. Because it’s true, and every one of the far too small children in this spar know it. Faie is second rank. He has nothing to gain from them. They have nothing to fear from him.

Faie was taught that touch was pain. A little brother that lets him correct a stance is his subtle victory


	26. Fenn, Spar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

He doesn't want any part in this. An empty threat considering it's 02.00, and he's spent hours researching child-friendly training exercises .

“You know,” Fenn observes mildly, “I didn’t ask you for help.”

Spar doesn’t bother with response. A natborn human twelve year old is equivalent to ... no, vod development wouldn’t line up.

“Spar.”

Maybe just go by weight and height? Is the kid even in average percentiles?

“Spar.” Fenn takes the holopad. They both know Spar lets him, and lets him keep his hands at the wrists too. “I _specifically_ didn’t ask you for help.”

It should be insulting. Spar holds a hand out for his holopad. Fenn relents with a sigh.

“Billaba will be back in a tenday, or less,” Fenn points out yet again. “I can handle watching the kid for that long.”

Spar sniffs. He’s seen enough of that Caleb Dume. Great big eyes, button nose, flopsy hair: Fenn will be absolutely useless as an authority figure.

He’s lucky he has Spar.


	27. Keeli, Ima-Gun Di

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"C'mon General, the men have to get to work at some point."

Keeli protests, but he thinks if he’s being honest with himself it’s only out of formality. The men are worn down, and Keeli himself is no different. Ryloth dust still coats their boots and memories.

General Di makes that low rumbling noise of consideration, the one Keeli feels more in his bones than hears. “The Force,” General Di starts, and Keeli has learned that everything that follows will be at least 75% banthashit by weight. “The Force remains unclear,” he muses. “Unless we have received new orders-” 

They haven’t. He knows that.

“- then I must continue to meditate upon our next move.”

“Will your ‘meditation’ be long.” Keeli, back when the war first started, would have never thought to drop his hands to ‘blisteringly sarcastic’ battlesign at the not-question.

General Di hums consideration. “At least another full shift cycle. Possibly two.”

Keeli doesn’t know if it’s through the Force or reptosapient hearing, but General Di smiles at the cheer that rings through Keeli’s bucket comms.

Keeli snorts. “Convenient isn’t it, your Force.”

“The Force simply is, Captain Keeli,” General Di doesn’t answer. “Would you join me for tea?”


	28. Fox, Blockade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 'give me a first sentence and I'll write the next five' meme on Tumblr

"Fox had already resigned himself to his command staff being seven shades of useless, but if Torrent infected Blockade with their bullshit, then all was lost."

“Here,” Fox grunts. He slaps a chillpak none-too-gently against Blockade’s purpling cheek. The dumbass can’t even manage a proper wince through the starry-eyed staring into the distance. 

“It was a stun baton,” Blockade mumbles as if Fox had asked. As if Fox had _any interest whatsoever_. “In the offhand. He might be ambidextrous.” Blockade remembers to hold the damn thing on his karking face after about three whole seconds of Fox smacking it. “Who even throws their entire body at someone-”

“Torrent,” Fox sniffs.

“Yeah,” Blockade sighs. He considers. “It was kind of hot.”

“Blockade. We aren’t that kind of friends.”

How Blockade manages the withering disdain with one eye swelling purple, Fox may never know. “ _Ponds_ ,” he hisses with vitriol. And you know what? Fuck, that’s disgustingly fair.

Fox detours from course to the backup emergency med kit, to the emergency-emergency hooch. This is the kind of conversation that needs the other kind of shots.


	29. Bly, Aayla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For an anon ask: If you don't mind me asking (feel free to ignore this!), I'd be curious to see how various Jedi and Vode found out about Aayla and Bly <3

“The second most important thing is that we not tip our hand.” Bly checks his notes. “Too much,” he corrects. “The fact that we’re mustering at all will betray the importance. But if we approach this carefully, we can potentially disguise the depth of our investment in proceedings.”

Candidate timelines one through three are right out, Aayla determines at a glance. Four is promising, but it depends on Anakin behaving predictably. A dicey gamble. “First?” she asks absently.

“Pardon?”

Aayla hums. Best leave option four for emergencies. “You said that was the second most important thing. What is the first?”

Bly shrugs and it’s just so odd for a man always deliberate. Aayla glances over the top of her holopad and raises an eyebrow.

“The first is obviously that I love you very much and _am_ very invested in this relationship,” he says with delightfully easy casualness.

He’s so good at that bland, even face but the Force sings with the depth of his emotion. Aayla grins. She’ll wait til later to tell him how he feels to her: deep-tide fathoms of conviction topped with champagne-bright bubbles of giddiness. _That_ conversation won’t be very conducive to getting this plan made.

“No,” she teases, “I think _that’s_ second, personally. And the plan can be bumped down to third.”

“I’m not starting an I-love-you-more with you right now,” Bly announces promptly.

“Because I’d win.”

“What’s wrong with timeline three?”

Desperately changing the subject. Amateur move but this once Aayla will allow it. She’ll just have to be _very_ specific later, describing how he feels to her.

“Master Quinlan must know first. Or else everything else is doomed.”

Bly doesn’t even consider accusing her of exaggerating. “General Vos first,” he agrees. “Then Skywalker?”

“Ha. No. I’d like to delay _that_ particular one of Anakin’s existential crises, thank you. How about your Shebse next. All at once? Or individually?”

“There are.” Bly groans. “Tactical disadvantages to both approaches.”

He sinks down to the pillow beside hers. They prop their shoulders up against each others. They stare at the potential orders of inform.

The options, disagreeably, don’t optimize themselves. The sounds of shipboard life thrum around them.

“So there’s a twenty-eighth option,” Bly finally reveals.

It’ll be good. _Very_ good if he left it off this list.

“I’m interested.”

“It’s. Bold.”

“I’m very interested.”

Bly glances at her out of the very corner of his eye. Aayla already loves this plan.

“Deviss is back. Rolled with Green and Wolfpack on the last few sorties. Got some ideas from their transports.”

“You’re _prevaricating_ ,” Aayla trills. Her lekku spin twisted together in glee. “Oh is it very terrible? How terrible?”

“He wants to paint us making out on the fighter nose cones.”

Aayla twitters high in her throat. “Oh that’s _awful_!”

“Preferably ragged and ripped after a battle.”

She squeals. “Horrific!”

“Tacky,” Bly points out like a man who started a battle he specifically planned to lose.

“It is. I love it.”

“Aalya. No. We would get _so much shit_.”

“We will do it.” It is a terrible horrible idea and she’s so pleased she can hardly remember Galactic Basic.

“Aayla no!” Bly laughs. Aayla sits herself in his lap and snags his wrist comm.

“Aayla yes,” she cheers. “It is,” she flutters a tune that means most-direct-no-detour. “Shortcut!”

“This is the very worst possible plan!” he protests and does absolutely nothing at all to dislodge her. Or to stop her from dialing Commander Deviss.

“Commander! I heard your plan and we both must insist you make this art the very worst!”


End file.
